that day devoted to such splendid misery. He reflected that he had,
in like manner, already conducted two wives of the king to the
marriage altar, and had blessed their union. But he reflected, too,
that he had also, afterward, attended both these queens when they
ascended the scaffold.

How easily might this pitiable young wife of the king fall a victim
to the same dark fate! How easily might Catharine Parr, like Anne
Boleyn and Catharine Howard, purchase her short-lived glory with an
ignominious death! At any time an inconsiderate word, a look, a
smile, might be her ruin. For the king's choler and jealousy were
incalculable, and, to his cruelty, no punishment seemed too severe
for those by whom he fancied himself injured.

Such were the thoughts which occupied Bishop Cranmer. They softened
him, and caused the dark wrinkles to disappear from his brow.

He now smiled to himself at the ill-humor which he had felt shortly
before, and upbraided himself for having been so little mindful of
his holy calling, and for having exhibited so little readiness to
meet his enemy in a conciliating spirit.

For Gardiner was his enemy; that Cranmer very well knew. Gardiner
had often enough showed him this by his deeds, as he had also taken
pains by his words to assure him of his friendship.

But even if Gardiner hated him, it did not therefore follow that
Cranmer was obliged to return that hatred; that he should denominate
him his enemy, whom he, in virtue of their mutual high calling, was
bound to honor and love as his brother.